I Dream of Zombies

by Johnstone, Vickie

  She nodded. “I’ll try.” After a second she got up. “I’m going to find that gun and practice loading it.”

  “Thanks, sis, I wouldn’t ask if…”

  “I know, Marl.”

  Marla watched Ellen walk into the other section of the boat and hold her head in her hands. The bathroom door was open and she could hear Peggy relating the innocent story of a magical tree at the top of which various worlds would arrive. Remembering it from her childhood, she leaned back in the chair and sighed.

  “Penny for your thoughts?” asked Billy, walking over and sitting opposite her. Harold remained standing up, studying the map.

  “Don’t ask,” she answered, shaking her head. “Just don’t.”

  ***

  “Stay inside and lock the door,” Harold informed Peggy as he gave her a kiss on the cheek.

  “Where are you going?” asked Barney, holding on to Bob as he pulled toward the door, wagging his tail.

  “I’ll be back soon, don’t worry,” Ellen told him. “Just stay in here and be quiet. There may be skeleton people.”

  “Oh, okay,” he said, burying his head in the dog’s fur. “You hear that Bob? We have to be quiet.”

  “And Jemima,” added Ruth, grinning as she bounced the doll on her lap.

  Barney nodded. “And Jemima, too.”

  “See you soon,” said Ellen walking away.

  “You just be careful, old man,” Peggy replied to Harold before he closed the door. She locked it from the inside and sat down with the children. “Now what story would you like to hear?” she asked them, trying not to think about where her husband was going. “I can whisper it.”

  Ellen walked into the bedroom and towards the windows. She checked the lock on the door again and then sat down on the edge of the bed where she had a good view. Marla entered the room. “You alright?” she asked. “We’ll be there in about five minutes now, Billy estimates.”

  “Sure,” Ellen replied. “Don’t worry.”

  “Okay, I’ll be out with Tommy if you need me,” said Marla, forcing a smile. When her sister nodded, she wandered back through the boat. “You guys fine with this?”

  Billy and Harold glanced at one another. “Yep, we’ve been through it a million times. I’ve got the windlass here,” said Billy, holding it up in the air.

  “That’s a weird looking thing,” Marla remarked.

  “And heavy,” added Harold.

  Tommy strode inside wearing a concerned expression. “All set?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” Billy replied. “I’m just popping out to keep the boat straight. Cover me, Harold?” The older man hastened behind him.

  “Guess we’ve just got a matter of minutes, Tommy,” said Marla. “This is scaring me more than the dead.”

  “I know,” he agreed. “I don’t like this any more than you do. Civilians, but what choice do we have? I can’t see one. The boat behind has kept at the same distance, so I guess it can’t travel any faster than us.”

  “Thank goodness for small mercies,” muttered Marla. “Okay, I guess it’s now or never,” she said, heading out the door.

  “Maybe you should stay inside for now,” Tommy suggested.

  “Why? Because I’m female?” she challenged him.

  He sighed. “Right, I’ll just shut my mouth then before I put an even bigger foot in it.”

  She smiled slightly before joining Billy and Harold. “How much further?” she asked them.

  Harold nodded behind her. “There it is.”

  Marla turned to see a bar in the distance across the canal. In the gloom it was difficult to see, but then some lights came on.

  “Headlights,” observed Billy.

  “They’re waiting for us, as we expected,” she continued. “I hate this.”

  “You and me both.”

  The narrow boat passed through the dark water towards the light. A couple of cars were visible and half a dozen outlines of men. Marla presumed the others had travelled on foot and were on their way, probably not far behind, seeing as the boats didn’t go much faster than walking. The canal was quiet; nothing stirred except for the rush of the wind blowing the surface of the water and tossing the leaves on the trees. Marla wished it was nearer to sunrise, but that was still about three hours ahead of them. It was all about timing and their luck seemed to be running out.

  Shouts could be heard coming from the men standing by the lock. They were too far away for her to catch the words, but the tone was threatening. Marla glanced at the three guys standing with her. Everyone wore the same look of determination and dread. The narrow boat seemed to drift through the water in slow motion as if the liquid they were travelling on was treacle, and they were gliding backwards and forwards simultaneously.

  Marla felt the ammunition filling the pockets of her jeans and denim jacket, and gripped her gun tightly. The breeze flicked a stray hair across her face and she blew it back. Feeling a tap on her shoulder, she turned to see Tommy looking at her. He nodded and she smiled slightly. “This is it,” he breathed as the lock gates came into clear sight.

  Billy pushed the throttle backwards to slow down and then with the tiller he let the boat glide through the water towards the channel it would move into. Tommy raised his weapon, followed by Marla, Harold and Billy in turn. Inside, at the front of the boat, Ellen sat perched in silence on the end of the bed, gazing out with the gun resting in her lap.

  “So what do we have here?” yelled a man whom Tommy recognised as the man called Mick. The voice and swagger matched. He was standing ahead of them, alongside the second set of lock gates on the higher level where their boat would have to rise to.

  Billy grabbed the windlass in his left hand, his rifle in his right, and stepped off the boat on to the concrete path. He strode purposefully up the steep ramp to the lock. Upon reaching it, he rested his rifle against the post, inserted the windlass and turned it steadily to raise the paddles.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” shouted the overconfident man, taking a step forward and staring downwards. “Do you think we’re going to let you do that when you reach these gates? Why not just give up now? Save any antagonism?”

  Billy ignored him and carried on turning the windlass. The lock gate opened. Harold moved to the tiller and the narrow boat drifted into the chamber. Marla counted the men: nine. Gathering her wits about her, she kept her gun raised and her focus fixed. She imagined Tommy was having the exact same thought as her: how long until someone fired? The distant rumble of an engine made her turn. Harold’s boat and the three strangers were creeping up behind them, but still far enough away to not be a threat.

  “Come on, we can talk this through. We don’t mean you any harm. Just want to get to know you better,” Mick shouted, to which some of the others burst into laughter. “Just want to know some of you more than others,” yelled another to the merriment of his friends.

  Billy closed the lock gate. The sluice gate released the water from the higher level of the canal and out it poured. Marla felt the boat wobble slightly and it began to rise. From above, Billy peered down at them quickly, gripping his rifle. He’d obviously put the windlass down for now, thought Marla as she watched him turn and raise his weapon. She braced herself, hoping that Ellen was alright by herself. Steadily, the narrow boat rose, higher and higher as the water plunged down.

  “You okay, Harold?” asked Tommy, and the old man mumbled, “Yes,” although his gaze did not stir from the men on the shore.

  When the narrow boat stopped at a level with the concrete path, Billy gave a quick nod and stepped on board alongside Tommy. Harold steered the boat forwards, closer to the group of men who were now on their eye level. Marla had preferred to look at them from a distance where their expressions had been blurred. She could not ignore the fact that most of them were staring directly at her and she swallowed down her fear. Tommy stepped closer to her, as if reading her mind. She suspected it was written on her face right now. Ellen. She hoped Ellen was fine. The curt
ains had been drawn at the front of the boat, so the men should not be able to see her.

  “This is your last chance to just step off the boat, put your weapons down and we can speak amicably, like friends,” Mick announced, flicking his cigarette on the ground. “All we want to do is talk.”

  “Don’t reply,” whispered Tommy. “Anything will goad him.”

  The boat glided forward in the channel, and Billy stepped off and walked swiftly towards the second lock. He rested his rifle against the post as before, and began to turn the windlass in the lock.

  “Hold it right there!” Mick shouted, walking towards him, followed by the other men, all bearing weapons. Marla noticed that not all of them held guns; some carried knives, so no wonder they wanted theirs. She aimed her Glock at the guy.

  Billy ignored him and carried on. Before he had time to open the gate, the man turned his rifle on him, but hesitated, as if unsure of what to do or simply amazed that he was not being obeyed. “Just kill him,” advised one of his goons, nudging his neighbour and chuckling before spitting on the grass. “What are you waiting for?”

  “Do you want me to shoot you?” Mick calmly asked Billy.

  “If you touch him, it will be the last thing you do,” shouted Tommy as the boat drifted forwards slightly.

  “Don’t move,” the man warned Billy, whose rifle was still leaning against the post. “Don’t open that gate.”

  Inside the bedroom of the boat, Ellen listened quietly, watching the scene intently, wondering how it would pan out. She spread her fingers over the cool metal of the gun, thinking.

  “Move away from there, that way!” Mick instructed Billy, who glanced back at Tommy and Marla. “Don’t look at them – do as I say. Move away, over there!” He moved his finger on the trigger and Billy automatically stepped aside. “That’s better,” the man said, walking towards him. “A little more over there, if you don’t mind,” he added, scooping up the rifle and throwing it to one of his men. “So now we can talk.”

  “What do you want?” Billy asked.

  “What do I want? Well, that’s an interesting question.” Mick turned to the rest of his men. “What do I want? What do I want?” He fired into the air for effect and laughed. “What do you think I want?” he asked, his tone becoming more dangerous.

  Tommy shuffled on his feet beside Marla. The best idea would be to turn on the engine, but he did not feel comfortable about leaving Billy, and he was certain the men would start firing their guns. He counted six of them that were armed. Voices made him glance to the right and he sighed – reinforcements. So more than six then… Tommy’s hands seemed to itch to fire the shotgun and he calmed himself. But to move the boat, they had to open the damn gate. They were sitting ducks and the joke wasn’t lost on him.

  The leader of the pack fired his gun in the air again, seemingly amused by it, and then he waved at the newcomers who were walking down the slope towards the lock. About half of them were armed and they numbered about seven, all male. They caught sight of Marla and paused before carrying on. She shivered, detesting the attention.

  From the distance carried on the wind came the sound of an animal, low, like a wolf. Tommy assumed it was Bob, and he hoped his dog would stay calm and not start barking. It would make the men nervous. Behind them the rumble of the engine of the other boat came in loud and clear. Tommy turned to see that it had moored by the side of the canal and the three other men were stepping on to the ground. Great. Marla glanced back and her face fell.

  The low growling increased in pitch and the gang leader looked around. “What’s that?” he shouted out.

  “Dog,” replied the cocky man with long, dark hair striding towards him. “They’ve got a Lab in there. Angry damn mutt barked at me earlier. If anyone gets to shoot it, I want the honour.”

  Mick chuckled. “If it pleases you that much.”

  Billy glanced around warily, expecting to be shot, but wondering who it would be that pulled the trigger. There was nowhere to run and if his friends started firing then it was possible that all of them would be killed, because they were vastly outnumbered.

  All around them the gnarling and moaning intensified, lifting into the air, carried on the breeze, wildly like an echo, and still it seemed to increase. “They’re coming,” whispered Marla, glancing around. “They heard the gunshots.”

  Tommy and Harold looked across the canal. The men gathered around them were also turning their heads. Two of the newest arrivals shot up the steep bank and then almost slid back down as the dead appeared at the top; a line of grey stretching all the way along to the bridge ahead in the distance. Marla watched the leader of the men shove Billy to the ground and raise his gun as he stalked off. The dark-haired man kicked him in the stomach as he strode past brandishing a machete. The rest of the gang turned and opened fire on the creatures that were moving like a putrid wave down the grassy bank from the trees.

  Inside the boat, Ellen moved to the right and glanced outside through a gap in the black curtains. Breathing in at the sight of the things walking towards the gang of men, she grasped her gun and ran back to the other side to keep watch on Billy. He was still lying on the ground, clutching his stomach.

  “This is our chance,” said Marla. “We should go now, but we need to get Billy.”

  “I’m thinking,” Tommy replied, as he glanced from their friend lying on the grass to the leader of the gang who was marching towards the line of the dead firing his weapon as if it was some kind of shoot-em-up game in which he stood no chance of losing. The dark-haired man from the boat was beheading one of the creatures and most of the gang were on the rampage, shouting and killing anything in sight as if releasing rage that had been pent up for too long.

  “It could have been us on the receiving end of that and if we don’t go it will be,” Marla warned.

  There were still five armed men standing on the concrete glaring at them. They had not moved since the rest of their group shifted to confront the dead. Tommy stared back at them, debating the odds if he blasted his shotgun at them. At that moment something moved out of the corner of Marla’s eye to the left and she turned to see fleeting outlines in the dark. She squinted until she could make out figures approaching from behind the trees and a boarded-up cafe. “Tommy,” she muttered, prodding him until he turned.

  “We’re stuck in the middle here and we’ve gotta move,” he replied. “We’re going to have to take a chance.”

  As Tommy spoke, Billy staggered to his feet and lunged forwards towards the narrow boat. The five men on the opposite side of the canal nudged one another, and one angled his gun away from Marla’s group and towards him. It happened so quickly that she didn’t have time to think. Tommy yelled Billy’s name, but before anyone could react a shot rang out and the man with the gun plunged forwards into the canal. The smash of the body on water stirred everyone into action. Marla shot at the nearest man, but missed, while Billy ran to the side of the narrow boat and ducked behind it. Harold took down the third man with a bullet to the chest and then everyone hit the deck to protect themselves as the remaining three goons launched their firepower on the boat.

  The echo of a gun firing was followed by the sound of something dropping into the water. Marla glanced at Tommy and he frowned. They needed to take down the last two men, but where were they? Tommy pointed for Marla to get inside the boat, so she crawled through the doorway, and then jumped up and ran towards the window. The inside was in darkness, so she moved to the window and cracked it open, just enough to stick her gun through.

  The two men were running along the bank towards the back of the boat. She fired once and the man in front hit the deck. The second man hesitated and glanced down, just long enough for Tommy to take him out. Breathing a sigh of relief, Marla closed the window and ran back outside. “Let’s go!” she shouted, “while those idiots out there are playing He-Man.”

  Harold laughed while Billy leapt off the boat and ran to open the second gate. To the side of him he could se
e the monsters stumbling across the grass, pouring out of the gap between the cafe and the bushes. He could count about two dozen of them, but he just knew there had to be more. As the corpses at the front stepped on to the concrete, Billy heaved and turned the windlass as quickly as he could, wishing it was automatic. The stench of the rotting bodies swept up his nostrils and he held his breath, willing himself not to feel nauseous.

  Finally, with a dull creak the gate opened and Billy sprinted towards the narrow boat. As he ran one of the monsters surged forwards, its arms outstretched, and he swung the heavy windlass with all his might, knocking the thing in the head, causing the skull to crack and deform beneath it. Without stopping to check if the monster was moving, Billy leapt on to the deck.

  “Good work, son,” exclaimed Harold as he selected the forward gear and throttle to send the boat on its merry way.

  Marla gazed at the dead-lookers making their way towards them, relentless in their pursuit of flesh, and shivered. To the other side of the canal the gang of men were battling the dead that were still coming over the peak of the hill. She could not understand why none of them had tried to escape, run or even drive away. It was as if they were enjoying the fight. She breathed out in relief as the boat left the narrow channel and glided out into the wider canal, into deep water where the dead could not reach them.

  “You can go inside if you want,” suggested Tommy. “Check to see if everyone is alright. We’ll keep watch here, but all those men are far up there, too busy to even notice us. We’ll be fine now.”

  Marla smiled and nodded. “Thanks.” Ducking inside the doorway, she walked through the boat to the other side. Sweeping the curtain aside she found her sister sitting on the bed with her gun in her lap. As Marla entered, she stood up and embraced her. “I’m so glad you’re fine. I was so scared.”

  “Me too,” Marla admitted. “I think I’ve never been so happy to see the dead-lookers. They inadvertently saved us.”

  Ellen smiled.

  “You don’t need this,” said Marla, picking the gun up from the bed. “I know how you… hey, this has been fired…”